


Love on the Run

by msmerlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camping, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Horcrux Hunting, Smut, Tent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 00:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17777399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmerlin/pseuds/msmerlin
Summary: After Ron abandons them on the Horcrux hunt, Harry and Hermione turn to each other for comfort, both unable to admit they want something more than just a physical relationship. Afraid to die without really living, they turn to each other to fulfill some very specific goals. When Ron returns will they abandon their new intimacy or double down to get the relationship they both crave? Written for Harmony & Co. Shag-A-Thon.





	Love on the Run

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not make any claims to own any part of the wizarding world, nor do I profit off this story.

****

**October 1997**

**Forest of Dean**

_Thump...thump…thump...thump_

She should be asleep, but the sound of the rain beating against the tent roof was no longer soothing. It was a reminder of how much they had left to do. They had only been able to acquire a single Horcrux, and still couldn't figure how to destroy the bloody thing. She felt partially responsible. She was supposed to know these things, but hours of research had turned up nothing. Books on Dark Magic were not exactly kept in the Hogwarts library, and it wasn't like she could just walk into Borgin and Burkes and ask where the tomes on Horcruxes were. Even if she wasn't a fugitive, she highly doubted the proprietor of that business would be willing to help her out. A muggle born. A mudblood. She was the last person they would want to help.

_Thump...thump…thump...thump_

They had been on the run for months, hunting those damn Horcruxes, but more importantly fighting for their lives. Months since she had the comfort of a proper bed, months since she felt her mother's arms around her. She tried not to dwell on the fact that this quest had turned into something much harder than any of them expected. During the day it was easy to forget how difficult it was. They kept busy researching, looking for food, moving camp; but when night called the creeping feeling of loneliness was harder to ignore. Which was likely part of the reason this all started—Harry sneaking into her bed so it felt like they weren't entirely alone in this bloody tent. Ron had left them three weeks ago and it was clear he wasn't coming back.

The wind would howl, and the cold would seep not only into their bodies but also into their thoughts. The idea of spending one more night alone felt more painful than wearing that damn locket, and Harry would come slip in bed beside her—like he'd read her mind from across the tent—and the built-up tension would slip away. He could just start out in her bed, coming to sleep with her as soon as they decided it was time to retire, but he liked to play coy, as if he wasn't expecting anything to happen between them. But night after night it would. By the time morning came, he'd leave. Wordless. They never spoke about what they did, neither one daring to risk the unspoken routine they'd settled on. Talking about it would mean having to admit she had feelings for Harry. Talking about it would mean it might end.

_Thump...thump…thump...thump_

Hermione was growing restless. He was normally in her room by now. He would normally help her fall asleep. He would normally make her forget. She couldn't tell if it was just impatience, or if Harry had taken longer than usual, but either way, she was done waiting. Rising from the lumpy bed, Hermione tugged the top throw blanket with her, draping it around her shoulders to help fight the cold. She wore a pair of faded cotton sweatpants, and an old gray Eastman Dental Hospital shirt worn thin. It was one of the few items she had been able to save from her parents' home.

Her breath hung in front of her like smoke in the air as she moved through the tent, bare feet carrying her through the living quarters and into Harry's room. The room was small, barely big enough for the two single beds that lay inside, but since they only really had the clothes she had been able to pack in her beaded bag before their abrupt departure after Bill and Fleur's wedding, space wasn't particularly an issue. Moving towards the bed on the left side of the room, Hermione wasted no time dropping her throw on top before she lifted the covers and slipped in beside Harry on the tiny mattress.

"'Mione?" Harry questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. Reaching on his nightstand, he searched blindly for his glasses.

Instead of answering, Hermione moved in closer. Her arm draped around his waist as she pulled herself to him, her nose pressing into the center of his back. The smoky scent of extinguished campfire and musk that was uniquely Harry filled her senses. It had been less than a day, but she missed this smell. It was comforting. It was home.

Harry stilled his search as he felt her hand slip across his abdomen, her fingers sliding underneath the hemline of his worn shirt to rest against the flat of his stomach, and he reclined into her hold, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the center of his chest in a slow blossom. Whether she knew it or not, he would have been lost without her. She made this journey bearable. Even if they hadn't started...whatever this was.

Harry rolled slowly, careful not to hurt her, until he was facing the curly haired witch, her face pressed into the center of his chest now instead of his back, and his arms moved around her shoulders. "You okay?" he breathed his question against her ear as his fingers ran softly over the thick mane of curls on the back of her head.

Hermione gave a small nod, not daring to lift her head, and loose the intoxicating aroma that clung to his shirt. She felt guilty for feeling like this. He was her best friend. A boy she was not supposed to have these feelings for, but as each day ticked by and they seemed no closer to ending this crusade than they had been the day before, it was harder to push these rising feelings away. When his hand moved to her chin and tipped her head back brown eyes found emerald, and her breath caught in her throat.

Harry trailed his fingertips down her jawline; walking them across her slender throat they brushed against the golden chain of the locket. He felt her shiver against his chest as he wound his fingers around the chain and pulled the locket from inside her shirt and slowly over her head.

Almost instantly the world seemed lighter. The invading dread disappeared and the high tide of anxiety dissipated. Hermione let loose a breath that had caught in her throat. She watched Harry lift up the locket, letting the unassuming object swing in the darkness. Even now she could make out his frustration with the damn thing. It had cost him so much already—his friendship with Ron, a warm bed to sleep in, food in his belly, but she wasn't going to let it ruin _them_. The promise to help him through this was as valid as it ever had been, and now that they were…well, whatever the hell they were, she was not going to tuck tail and run.

Harry's teeth nibbled on his bottom lip, eyes flickering across the cloudy stone, watching as the smoke inside containing Voldemort's soul reacted to his proximity. He'd worn it for nearly two days straight before Hermione forced it off him. He felt terrible asking her to bear its weight, but he wasn't going to argue with her. Especially not when she had him at wand point. This morning the jewelry exchanged hands, but now that night had called them both to the same bed once more, perhaps it would be okay if it just sat on the nightstand. It was only a couple hours, right?

Leaning over Hermione, Harry stretched to set the locket on the rickety table, listening to the heavy thunk of it finding a temporary home before he dropped his eyes down to the witch who now lay flat partially beneath him. A slow, half-cocked grin tugged as his lips as he felt her hands spread across his chest, making their way up to his shoulders. "Better?"

"Much," Hermione agreed as her hands moved across the broad expanse of his shoulders and slowly up the back of his neck, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp as she played with the shaggy ends of his hair. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget about the world around them. Gone were the thoughts of how to destroy the locket, the thoughts of where they should camp next or how they would find their next meal. She allowed herself to pretend that this wasn't just a means to pass the time—to not feel so alone out here. She allowed herself to believe that maybe Harry really did want her. That they weren't betraying Ron or Ginny by doing this, but instead giving in to long-suppressed desires.

Hermione lifted her head off the mattress and her lips found Harry's easily. This dance they began weeks ago was nearly perfected by now, but the excitement of butterflies still fluttered deep in her belly each time they touched. Her lips parted when Harry's tongue swept across her bottom lip, allowing him the entrance he was seeking and her mouth slanted across his to deepen the kiss.

The little noises that escaped the back of her throat encouraged him, and before she knew it, his lips left hers to trail open-mouthed kisses down the slope of her throat, his chin nudging the neckline of her shirt as his right hand dropped to her waist. Her eyes closed and she tipped her head back across the thin pillow, allowing him better access to nip and lick his way across her skin.

Harry didn't ask her permission when his hand at her waist gathered the hem of her shirt, and he tugged it off with her help before dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. He felt goosebumps spread across her skin as the cold night's air washed across her. His lips moved further down her body, leaving a hot trail of kisses between the valley of her breasts as he moved further under the covers. He felt her hands card thought his hair, gripping it lightly when his kisses landed on a sensitive spot. His hands ran across her outer thighs, stroking up and down as he moved lower and lower. Pausing just below her navel, he smirked against her skin, noticing how her breathing picked up. The rise and fall of her abdomen bumped his chin as he lay still beneath the covers. His hands moved slowly, traveling up the sides of her thighs and across her hips until he found the top of her sweatpants. His fingers curled slowly into the elastic band of both her knickers and the pants before he began to tug them down.

Hermione pressed her feet into the mattress, lifting her hips off the bed to help him with his mission to lay her bare. One hand rested on top of Harry's head, her fingers running through his thick black hair while the other snaked out of the covers he lay beneath to push her own curls from her face. One by one, she lifted her feet to allow him to remove her bottoms, and just when she was about to make a comment about him being fully clothed, she felt his hands slide up from her knees to her inner thighs, pressing lightly to part them further.

His name was whispered encouragingly, her legs trembling as she felt his lips began to alternate between her parted legs, slowly working his way up to her core. His hand stroked her inner thighs, parting them until they fell open wide, her feet stuck beneath his chest. She could feel his hot breath over her sex, tickling against the soft patch of sodden curls. Before she could prevent it, a small noise of frustration left her throat and she heard Harry chuckle beneath the blankets. Before she could begin to feel embarrassed about her eagerness, she felt Harry's mouth press against her core, his tongue sweeping through her folds in a slow. deliberate stroke that caused her to gasp a breathy moan.

Harry took his time, as he always did, exploring every inch of her core. Alternating between delivering wickedly decadent flicks of his tongue against her clit and letting the slick muscle probe her cunt, lapping at the essence that dripped from her. By the time he had his fill of making her moan his name into the quiet of the tent, his cock throbbed painfully beneath his pajama bottoms. Everything about this little dance they did was maddening. He wanted her more than she knew. Not just her body, but her. But how could he tell her this? So instead he did everything in his power to show his desire in more than words.

Feeling the familiar quake of her thighs, letting him know her orgasm was only seconds away, Harry pulled away from between her legs, not wanting to finish so quickly. He wanted to drag this out, bring her more than just a quick orgasm and cuddle. He wanted to make her break into a million tiny pieces and pull her back together in his arms. His right hand stroked her thigh, petting softly against the tender skin as he began to kiss his way back up her body.

Hermione felt the wetness of his cheeks and chin press into her skin as he made a trail back up her frame. She wanted to beg him for more, demand he not stop until she was nothing but liquid beneath his tongue, but she couldn't utter a single word. She was torn between wanting to confess this meant more to her than just merely teenage exploration and worrying that confessing would ruin whatever had started between them. So she said nothing, instead reaching down to his shoulders, her fingers curling around the thin shirt, tugging at it until Harry relented and allowed it to slip off his body.

He wasn't fit, not like the Gryffindor girls dreamed about back at Hogwarts. Harry was lean with ropey muscles that flexed under her touch. Even in the dead of winter his skin had a sun-kissed tan that defied logic. He was handsome. He was bloody perfect, but she would never utter those words allowed. She couldn't. He was her best friend. She couldn't risk telling him the truth and losing him forever once this war was over. She told herself she would be happy with what she had right now. Right now was the only thing that mattered.

His flannel pajamas found a similar fate as his shirt, hitting the floor with the help of her feet. Her hands cupped Harry's jawline, her thumb stroking across the soft stubble on his cheek as she pulled him back up until their mouths met once more. She poured everything she had into that kiss. Her fear, her longing, and her love for the boy she was never supposed to have. For a second, she could almost believe the fever he returned matched her emotion.

Their tongues intertwined as Harry settled his hips between her parted thighs, right hand moving to her hip while his left positioned his member against her core, sliding the head of his cock through her folds, spreading himself with her essence before he slowly pushed inside her. Taking the time to enjoy the velvety heat that engulfed his cock as he pushed into her until their hips met.

Hermione broke the kiss first, her fingernails pressing lightly against his shoulders as her body stretched to accommodate his size. He began a slow rhythm that dragged soft moans from her throat, his hand on her hip encouraging her to rock into him. From the very beginning there had been no awkwardness. She didn't feel ashamed of her scars or her figure. She felt desired. Pretty even. The way Harry looked at her when she lay beneath him... like she was the prettiest girl in the world, instead of his only option. It was easy to see why so many girls found him attractive. But Hermione didn't just like his looks. She liked him. His personality— even if at times he was more than just a bit aggravating. He was _hers_. Her best friend… _her_ person, nobody else's.

Harry watched her face, noting all the ways her face would twist with pleasure when he positioned his hips differently as he thrust into her until he found exactly he was looking for. The spot that made her eyes flutter, her lips part further and her fingers at his back press deeper. They had only been having sex for a few weeks when he found it the first time, and every time since he'd made it his mission to make sure she felt the intense waves of pleasure again. He loved watching her come apart beneath him. He loved seeing the tidal wave of emotions that poured out from her as he brought her over the edge and how he could feel her heartbeat fluttering wildly against his in the afterglow.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she felt him drive her closer to oblivion, her body tight with tension as she edged closer to the precipice, and all she could do was silently beg him for more. The sound of their bodies joining soon overtook the sound of the downpour of rain outside of the tent, and all thoughts became superfluous but one. All she could focus on was the feel of him inside her, the way the skin on the inside of her thighs stung as his hips snapped against hers, and how she needed just a little more to find her release.

Her hand left his shoulder, dropping between them. Her body arched off the mattress, tilting her hips to allow him deeper as her fingers brushed through her folds to find her clit. Already hard, and swollen, as soon as she began to rub slow circles around the tender nerves, her moans grew louder. Brown eyes sought his once more, and she found herself staring into pools of near black, his pupils blown wide, like she was a drug and he was giving in to his addiction. That, coupled with the feel of his cock pistoning in and out of her while her fingers pleasured herself, was finally enough. She felt a familiar snap of tension low in her abdomen and a fast unfurling followed. His name was shouted as her body quaked. Bright white hot light flashed behind her eyes and her climax came like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of her mind.

Harry was not able to hold off, her pussy fluttering around him beckoning to join her in oblivion. Thrusting into her one last time, he pressed his hips against hers until he was sure there would be bruises the next day as he emptied his seed into her petite frame. His head dropped to her shoulder when he could do little to hold himself over her anymore. Her cries of release echoed in his ears, replaying like the sweetest melody he'd ever heard. He could go a lifetime and only hear that noise and he was certain he would die a happy man.

They lay intertwined for what felt like hours, their bodies breathing in sync as they tried to gather the strength—or the will-to pull apart. Hermione absorbed Harry's weight, her hands stroking over the soft planes of his back as she rested her chin on the crown of his head that he still had tucked against her shoulder. It wasn't until a crackle of ominous thunder echoed off the trees around them and the sudden deluge of a cloud releasing its rain that she felt Harry slowly withdraw from her body. Her arms unwound from around him reluctantly and she watched as he rolled onto the left side of the bed.

Reaching under the pillow, Harry withdrew his wand, the knotted handle spinning in his palm until he found the right grip. Propping up on his elbow, he caught Hermione's eye to make sure it was okay that he use the spell, and when she gave him a small nod he pressed the tip gently against her lower abdomen and a contraceptive charm was cast. He watched the twinkly of the blue magic spread across her belly, causing her skin to glow in shine before it sunk into her womb. He had never even known a charm like this existed, but after their first time together Hermione was quick to make sure that no additional consequences of what they were doing sprung up. At the time he thought it almost shocking she knew a spell for that, considering they had both been virgins, but then he remembered the all-girl meetings McGonagall held in the Common Room during fifth year. At the time he and Ron were only happy they didn't have to attend an after-hours meeting, but now it made perfect sense.

Hermione lay still, letting the tingle of the charm settle inside her, making sure not to disrupt the magic before she rolled on her side to allow him to settle into a more comfortable position on his side of the mattress. Once Harry was in place, Hermione scooted next to him, their naked bodies flush against one another. His arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest letting his steady heartbeat tattoo her cheek as she reached down to tug the blankets around their intertwined bodies.

Harry's fingers ran across the bottom of Hermione's curls, twisting the occasional strand around his fingers as he relaxed back, savoring the feeling of the weight of her body on his. As their breaths slowed, the sound of the rain outside filled the tent once more. The thumping of the drops against the canvas now felt soothing with her beside him. His eyelids grew heavy, but his arm stayed around her, protective, unwilling to lose his hold on the witch who he had long seen as just his friend. "Goodnight, 'Mione."

Hermione nuzzled against Harry's chest, her nose nudging the scar the locket had left as she snuggled in closer. She felt relaxed, the tension from the day long forgotten. "Goodnight, Harry," Hermione returned mid-yawn before she allowed her eyelids to drift closed. Her breathing matched his own, the steady rhythm whisking her to sleep wrapped in the comfort of his arms.

* * *

**Early December 1997**

**Forest of Dean**

Lists. Lists were logical. They helped her think. They helped her put a plan together. So when the impending reality that they might not make it out of this situation alive became more present than before, Hermione broke their unspoken rule and made them create a list. Things they wanted to _experience_ before they died. It was morbid, she knew, but they needed this. They needed a list. At first Harry refused, but not because he didn't want to talk about it. He was very open to the possibility of exploring any little debaucherous act Hermione was interested in, but he made it very clear he would not be making a list. He said he didn't need a list, that they would be fine. Of course, Hermione refused to listen.

Instead, she tore off a bit of parchment from a roll she'd brought with them and began to write down ideas that had crossed her mind since they'd begun whatever this was between them. Of course, she made sure to leave out the things they would not be able to experience together: sex on the common room couch, in the Perfect's bathroom, or while on rounds. All of those ideas had crossed her mind, but returning to the castle seemed more unlikely than finding a chocolate cake in the middle of the forest. Instead, she had listed things with the possibility of success. Things they could look forward to. Things that might give them hope. By the time it was said and done, her list consisted of only five bullets, but it was a start.

Hermione let the list sit in the open on the kitchen table with a quill and inkpot next to it. She would peek at it as she passed by, hoping that Harry would have stopped and added a line. Or even made an indication that he had bothered to read it. Each day it appeared unmoved, unlooked at. Like a forgotten sock in the bottom of a trunk.

But one day while she was sitting in front of the fire warming her frostbitten feet from the new blanket of snow that surrounded them, Harry made his move. He wasn't as confident as he normally was at night. There was a whole new level of intimacy that came from daylight, as they could now see each others' bodies without the blanket of darkness emboldening their desires, but he managed just the same. He stripped them bare and brought her to climax twice—once with his mouth and fingers, and then again with him buried deep inside her—and after they laid by the fire, curled together, letting the heat warm their bones. She could have stayed like that forever, but when their bellies grumbled, she knew that they still needed to make dinner. Harry had been lucky enough to catch fish earlier that day and she had found eggs in a local farmer's hen house. It wasn't going to be much, but it was enough to fill their bellies.

She had pulled on his discarded shirt and her own knickers, and made her way to the kitchen to start preparing their meal. She caught sight of her list as she passed by the table, noticing the first bullet point was crossed out. Sex by the fire. And underneath her five ideas was the sloppy scrawl of Harry's, adding new ideas to try. A blushing grin pulled across her lips, and she hadn't dared to look at him. Even though he had just had his mouth and fingers on her in the most intimate way possible, there was something more personal about him adding to her list—their list now. Maybe he did want this...and her.

The list was precisely how she found herself in Harry's lap during the middle of breakfast. Sex in a chair. It sounded simple in theory, but she was typically not the one to initiate things. He had worn the locket for the better part of the week, and when they woke up squeezed together in her twin-sized bed, his mood was already sour. Hermione did her best to doctor up week old bread, leftover eggs and some berries they'd collected earlier in the week while Harry rearranged the living room space for what felt like the twelfth time this week. It was a habit he had started whenever he felt restless. Whenever the reality of the lack of progress they were making set in. They ate in silence, and before Harry had even cleared his plate, Hermione had made the choice that today was the day. That bullet would be striken through before the morning was over.

Gathering up all of the courage she possessed, she rose from the table as Harry finished his last bite, and pulled the sleep shirt from her body. It wasn't graceful, or sexy, but it had clearly done the trick because before she even made it to him, Harry had pulled the locket from around his neck and tossed it next to his cup of water. They started slow with tender kisses and exploring hands but soon touching was not enough, she needed more.

Internally thanking herself for coming up with that brilliant list, Hermione snaked her hand between their bodies. She let her fingertips brush across the front of his boxers that were visibly tented, his hard cock straining against the rough cotton fabric. Breaking their lip lock, her eyes dropped to look between their bodies as she slowly tugged the elastic of his boxers down. As soon as his manhood sprang free from its confines it pressed against her lower abdomen, no longer restrained beneath his clothing.

In one fluid motion, Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist, and he lifted her up with him as he planted his feet firmly into the ground while the other hand shimmied his boxers down his thighs until they hit his ankles. When Hermione gripped his shoulders, a small tinkle of laughter filling the room, and he could not help the goofy smile that spread across his lips. Settling back in the chair now that he was completely disrobed, he allowed himself to lean back, emerald eyes roving over her figure. He wanted to remember this moment forever. It wasn't just that they were playing out one of his fantasies, but rather that it was her doing this with him. She looked stunning. The way the sunlight danced across her skin, giving her a warm glow. The way her hair looked like it had ribbons of caramel, and how her eyes looked like endless pools of honey. He had spent so much time paying attention to other girls, it seemed foolish to think how he had never noticed how utterly perfect she was for him. Sure, he knew she was pretty. But out here, on their own, Hermione seemed to hold a new confidence that excited him.

Hermione leaned forward, not wanting to waste a single second longer between them, and her mouth found his once more as her hands used his shoulders for purchase as she rose up, positioning her hips above his cock as best she could. She felt Harry position his cock against her core, the head sweeping through her sodden folds before finding the right spot and Hermione sank down slowly until he was seated deeply inside her. She felt him suck in his breath, his hand on her hip slowly sliding over her skin, and as he grabbed her backside, she felt his other join in the fun. From this position it felt like she could feel every inch of him filling her. Her toes curled as she rolled her hips experimentally, earning a groan of her name from Harry that she greedily swallowed up.

Harry helped her find a rhythm, his hands on her backside guiding her toward him as they rocked together. He felt her hands move from his shoulder to grip the back of the chair, using it for support as the tempo picked up. Her breasts swayed in his face as she rose above him, the hot heat of her pussy enveloping him over and over until he was dangerously close to falling over the edge. "H-Hermione," Harry rasped out, emerald eyes flickering up from her breasts to her face.

Hermione's cheeks were rosy from her exertion; the baby fine curls that framed her face clung to her forehead. She felt wicked and ascendant as she rode him, and despite his groaning of her name, she kept the pace. Her toes curled as she rolled her hips into his, causing Harry to mutter soft curse words mixed with groans that sounded raw and primal. Like he forgot how to form coherent thought in this moment and all that mattered was the feeling between them.

Despite the room being freezing cold moments ago, it now felt hot and charged. Hermione's skin began to blossom with crimson beneath a thin layer of sweat. The mixing of their magic in this most intimate act seemed to amplify, and right as she sunk down onto his cock, the head of his manhood slamming into that particular spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids, she keened.

Her voice was breathless, almost unrecognisable, as she cried out his name, and instantly Harry snapped. He couldn't take the torturous pace anymore. He couldn't last if she continued on top of him, her body on full display for his roving eyes while he sat and accepted the pleasure she gave. His right hand moved up, snaking into the side of her hair and he pulled her down for a near violent kiss as his left arm wrapped around her waist, holding her body securely to his before he rose and maneuvered them to the kitchen table. Setting her on the edge, so her bum was partially hanging off, Harry guided her back until she lay flat on her back and he grabbed each of her ankles with his hands, holding her legs and pushing them back until she was folded back on the table, her body still impaled with his throbbing cock.

He wasted no time setting a quick pace, using his newfound freedom to deliver rough thrusts into her body. His hips positioned against hers, and soon the only sounds either one of them could hear were Hermione's wanton moans filling the tent.

Hermione's hand lifted to grip the edge of the table, her nails digging into the soft wood as she clung to it in a desperate attempt to not topple off the other side. She watched sweat trickle down Harry's body, the droplets scalding her skin when they hit. With each rough thrust, her body molded to his, surrendering to his every whim. She could barely breathe when he released one of her ankles to drop his hand to where their bodies joined. His fingers found her clit with little effort, and he plucked and strummed at it until he felt her body spasm with need for release.

Shockwaves of pleasure sizzled through her body, rippling across every ounce of her being as Harry continued his merciless assault on her body, seeking to bring her to climax. Just as she felt the tight winding coil in her belly, she felt his index and thumb pluck at her clit, pinching the swollen bud, and instantly she was launched into oblivion. Her mouth dropped open and she arched off the table, her toes curling. The feeling overtook her, the wild unchaining of all the pieces of her soul and the near transcendent pleasure. By the time she came back to earth, she felt Harry collapse on top of her, his sweaty frame limp across hers and she felt his cock pulse inside her as he spilled his seed.

Harry's heart beat wildly beneath his chest, like a stampede of runaway thesterals. By the time he was able to collect his thoughts enough to know he should probably not be lying across their rickety kitchen table, he didn't have the will to move. She had begun carding her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp, not enough to hurt, but enough to make the goosebumps on the back of his head appear. Slowly he lifted his head and he rested his chin on her sternum between her breasts, emerald eyes twinkling with a mixture of sedated lust and amusement as he looked down at her. "That's two," he said breathlessly.

"Two?" Hermione's brow wrinkled as she looked down at him, no longer ashamed of her nakedness. It was hard to feel that way when his cock was still seated deep inside her, pulsing with the last remaining evidence of his orgasm.

"Chair…and table," Harry explained, a slow, wicked smirk falling into place that was becoming more characteristically himself by the day. "Two off the list. Only five more to go."

* * *

**Late December 1997**

**Forest of Dean**

Ron was back. Those three words should have brought her so much joy, but now they seemed hollow and empty. Ron was back. When Harry walked up to her carrying the broken locket, her heart soared. He'd figured it out! But then the fire red hair of her other best friend came into view, and her heart shattered. Whatever this unspoken thing was between them was sure to be over. Forcing a smile on her face, she accepted Ron back into the fold of their friendship—but not after giving him a thorough tongue lashing for leaving them for weeks on end.

Life between the three settled into a routine similar to what it had been before Ron's sudden departure. Late night talks on the couch, early morning silence over hot tea, and of course, separate bedrooms. The first night was expected. Of course Harry would stay in his room, his best mate had returned. She held little doubt they stayed up and spoke in hushed tones about life outside of being on the run. But by the end of the week she felt a painful longing deep in her heart that felt like her world might be shattering into a million tiny pieces. Had she made it up? Were the feelings one-sided? Was it all just a means to pass the time?

Tucking their uncompleted list into her beaded bag late one night before Ron could stumble upon it, Hermione crawled under the covers in her room and resigned to never have Harry grace her bed again. Extinguishing the candle stub she used to illuminate the room, she curled up on her side so her back faced the door. Lost in her thoughts of how she would be able to go back and face life now that she knew every detail about the wizard who was only supposed to be her best friend, not her lover, she didn't hear the soft rush of the canvas door as it swung shut.

It wasn't until she felt the mattress dip that she realised that someone was behind her. "Harry?" Her heart skipped a beat as she craned her neck to see behind her, praying that it was him and not her imagination playing tricks on her.

"Shh," Harry whispered as he slipped underneath the covers, his body scooting impossibly close to hers. "Ron's asleep—finally." One arm snaked beneath the pillow while the other wound around her waist, pulling her petite frame back into his.

Hermione bit her bottom lip as her eyes fluttered closed. A warm feeling radiating from the center of her chest spread across her until she felt the tingle of familiar magic. Like something deep inside her telling her this is exactly where she belonged. In his arms. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to find the right words to tell him how she felt. How much she missed this feeling. It wasn't just the sex. It was him. She never knew you could miss someone even when they were in the same damn room, but somehow it happened. But before she could utter a single word, Harry broke the silence.

His face nuzzled into the side of her neck, his nose rubbing against her curls in an attempt to envelope her scent. Citrus with a hint of cinnamon, but more than anything, she smelled like home. "'Mione, I missed you," he whispered into her ear. "...I know I shouldn't be here, but—"

"I missed you too," Hermione cut him off, her hand dropping to rest over his on her abdomen. Slowly she laced their fingers together. "Please...don't go. Not yet."

Harry nodded before pressing his lips against her throat. He felt her body shiver at the touch. Before he could stop himself, he began to kiss and lick at the side of her neck, wanting nothing more than to hear the soft sounds of pleasure she made. He knew he shouldn't be here, and he especially shouldn't be doing this. Ron was across the tent with only canvas flaps separating them. They could get caught at any moment, but the thrill of it all seemed to heighten their need for one another.

His hand moved moved from her abdomen and he began to gather the thick nightgown she wore until it bunched around her waist carelessly. With her lower body now accessible, his hand slipped into her panties to already find her wet with need. He let loose a small primal growl before his teeth scraped lightly against the lean muscle of her neck. He felt her legs part, providing him more room as he dragged his fingers through her slick, coating them in her essence before moving to rub soft circles of her clit. His mouth went to her ear as he began to draw soft whimpers and moans of pleasure from her. "Shhhh," he reminded before grinding his cock into her backside in time with his thrusting fingers.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying to be quiet as she lost herself in waves of pleasure. His touch was electric. He already knew just what she needed, it was like he was more in tune with her body than she was. Just as his fingers moved from her clit to slide into her core, Hermione reached down to grab his wrist, stilling his ministrations. "Harry...Please," she whispered before craning her neck to look back at him. "Please...I need you."

When those big brown eyes found his, the last ounce of his self-control shattered. Leaning forward his lips found hers in a breath-stealing kiss while his hands busied themselves by tugging down his pajama bottoms and boxers until they rested low on his thighs. He felt Hermione shift and when she spread her legs so one draped over the top his thigh, her body spread for him beneath the covers, he wasted no time lining up his throbbing manhood at her entrance. Using their kiss as a means to keep her quiet, Harry thrust into her slowly, his hand gripping her thigh tightly as he was once more wrapped in the velvety heat of her body.

The position was new, not one they had explored yet, and it took several experimenting twists of her hips and thrusts from him until a slow delicious pace was found. Their kiss helped soften the noises they made, but as they spiraled closer towards the inevitable release they both craved, Hermione was the first to break away. This was so different than before. Where her orgasm felt like a wildfire previously, this time it felt like smoldering embers. Burning, consuming every nerve ending in her body until it was all lit on fire. His thumb stroked over her clit in time with his shallow thrusts, edging her ever closer towards release. Lifting her arms, Hermione wrapped them around Harry's neck, holding him in place as he planted love bites across her collarbones and shoulders, marking his path across her skin.

"I'm close," she warned. Her voice was thick and syrupy and quivered with need. She wasn't going to last. She had needed this. This slow torturous pace, this reaffirmation that Harry really did want her as much as she wanted him. But more importantly, she needed _him_. This intimacy was second best to the way her heart seemed to explode with just one look from him.

"Wait." His hot breath washed across Hermione's skin as he ground his hips against her bum. "I want to cum…with you." Although it was a request and not a command, he prayed she would follow. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt her pussy tighten around him as she tried to fight off the need to climax, adding to his own pleasure.

Hermione only made a plaintive whimper in response. Her body was firing on the most primal of levels. There was little room to think of anything else but the slow, shallow thrusts he sunk into her core. His fingers slowed their strumming on her body as he tried to catch up. She fought with herself as she accepted all he could give her, trying to keep herself as quiet as possible. And just when she thought she wasn't going to be able to comply with his request, she felt his lips at her ear, telling her it was time. Telling her to come apart in his arms. Telling her how close he was now, but he needed her to go first. Telling her how beautiful she was, and how he would always come to her. He would always be hers.

And just like that, her world shattered into a million tiny pieces in his arms. The white hot light exploded behind her eyes, and she felt like his touch was everywhere. His words sank into her soul, igniting a fire she had not realised she had extinguished the moment Ron came back to them. She felt Harry stiffen behind her as he pressed himself deep inside her, his cock throbbing as he followed her lead and found his own release.

Harry buried his face into her neck, stifling his groan against her throat as his fingers flexed into the mattress beneath the pillow. His heart beat wildly against her back, his hand lifting from the apex of her thighs to rest against her upper abdomen, not wanting to let her free from his hold yet. He didn't want this to end here. He needed more than just late night meetings and unspoken desires. He needed her. Pressing a soft kiss against her throat, Harry slowly withdrew his manhood from her aching core and he lowered her thigh from of his.

Hermione tugged her nightgown down, not bothering to shimmy her knickers back into place, nor cast the contraception charm. It would still be as effective in the morning, and she did not want to lose the comfort of his embrace while he was still behind her. They laid in silence until her eyelids grew heavily and the draw of sleep seemed more enticing than before. Shifting on the mattress, Hermione rolled over so she could face him. Leaning up she pressed a soft kiss against his lips, their noses brushing one another. "I don't want you to go," she admitted, her arms snaking around his waist to give him a soft squeeze.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry whispered back, his arms sliding around her petite frame to pull her close as he pressed a tender kiss against her forehead.

"What about Ron?"

Harry paused and he chewed on his lips thoughtfully. He knew the ginger wizard had feelings for Hermione, and he knew he likely would not take this news well, but he also knew he was not willing to let what he had with Hermione slip away. Ron would have to grow up, and Ginny would understand. They weren't exactly together right now anyways, were they?

"I don't care," Harry breathed as he tipped his head to look down at the sleepy witch in his arms. "You're mine. I'm not going to hide that from anyone."

**Author's Note:**

> I've always headcanon'd Hermione & Harry being eachother's firsts while horcrux hunting, so I thought I'd write that trope. I hope you enjoyed this smutty little number. Thank you to Disenchantedglow for the love and support and Islandgurl777 for being my beta extraordinaire! xoxo Happy Valentine's' Day!
> 
> Aesthetic by LadyKenz347. She wrote a smutty little OS for Strictly Dramione's Smutfest. Definitely check it out! It's funny and hot hot hot!


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